Memory Repression
by TheKawaiifan
Summary: Shortly after the events of The Golf War, Pacifica had her own encounter with The Blindeye Society.


Walking down our driveway I ignored the display before me. The fireworks boomed in the sky, only to fall upon deaf ears. The fountains, statues and peacocks had been ignored, my eyes rarely leaving my white golf shoes. "I see the workers did their job" I muttered, noting that the floor beneath me was shiny enough so that not only could I see my on reflection, but also the "CONGRATULATIONS PACIFICA" sign illuminated in lights. Hot pink. My favorite color.

"Welcome Home" my personal butler greeted upon my entrance.

"Hi Jeeves" the duo of nonchalant words slipped through my lips as I passed him by without a care.

"How was your duel at the mini-golf course? I trust that your skills were proven far too superior, as per usual"

"...things got a bit complicated" I answered, not sure how to explain that I nearly got decapitated by a bunch of FLBP.

"Oh? How so? Is everything all right?" I could tell that Jeeves' curiosity peaked, concern dripping from his tone of voice.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. It's not that important. What matters is that I won" I shushed his prying mood with that news, to which he merely congratulated me. "Jeeves, it's been a long day, and it's kind of late. I think I'd like to go to bed now" I stopped him with the news of my fatigue. I need to sleep this one off. He excused me while I climbed up the stairs to my room.

I can't just blab about this to my butler. He'll think I'm crazy. Sooner or later I'd probably be shoved into an asylum with Skipper. With paranoia like that, it's only a matter of time. Tonight has just been weird for me.

My bedtime routine went as the following:

Remove Makeup

Wash Face

Brush Teeth

Floss

Remove Hair Extentions

Brush real hair

Change into Pajamas

Put clothes and other belongings away

Drink a mug of Chamomile Tea

Throughout the entire process I thought long and hard about the earlier events. And now I stood on my balcony staring into the stars, still deep in thought. I had changed from my golfing clothes into a pink silk nightgown. My blonde hair was now at it's natural length, going down a little past my shoulders. After removing any and every tangle, I secured those blonde locks into a low and loose ponytail. For warmth in this storming night I went with my hot pink Victoria's Secret bathrobe.

_I will sue you! And I will OWN you!_

I recalled my words from earlier. Reaching into the bathrobe pocket, I fished out my phone. Flipping it open, the first thing my oceanic blue eyes land on is the time. _2:30 AM _it read. It is kinda late right now. The second thing was a responding text from Tiffany. Great. I'm going to have allot of explaining to do. I started dialing the required numbers. The plan: sue the owners of the golf course dry and have them sell the place over to my family. I'll practically own the course, with the FLBP inside it. And you don't want to be on the slave end when Pacifica Northwest rules. I'll get those stupid things back big time.

As the dial tone made that ever so annoying sound, something suddenly was wrapped around my mouth. Split seconds later I felt something tight be secured at the back of my head. Before I could process what was happening, everything suddenly went black. My phone slipped out of my hands, and judging from the texture and smell I'm in a burlap bag. "Hey! Let me out!" I tried to scream at the top of my lungs as whoever my kidnapper is started wrapping his arms around me, preventing escape.

No. This is not happening. Not in my home, and not on my porch. And definitely not twice on the same night. "SECURITY!" I wailed, thrashing left and right. Unfortunately with the mouth gag in place, no one would hear my screams. Screaming through the gag ever so stubbornly, I thrashed and made a huge fuss inside the burlap bag as another pair of hands grabbed me to keep me steady. PERV! NO ONE TOUCHES ME! I can feel my kidnappers quickly carry me away, and all I can do is throw a tantrum and scream out muffled threats. First FLBP, now perverted men stuffing me in a burlap bag. Why am I being cast as a damsel in distress so much tonight?

During the trip, I tried desperately to untie the mouth gag. Please. Someone. Hear me. Save me. My fingers fiddled with the knots, trying desperately to undo them. The only result I got however was a broken nail. Dammit. The option proving itself unsuccessful, I return to thrashing.

I know how this works. It's in all the movies. The killer kidnaps the beautiful girl (me), takes her to a secret lair of some sort, keeps her as a sex slave and rapes her, and eventually kills her. no. No. NO. NO! I can't let that happen to me. How'd they even get past security? Or ya know, MY ROOM!? This can't be happening. I can't get raped and killed. I'm too pretty and popular for that

After what felt like an hour of throwing a tantrum in this darkness, the energy kinda just drained out of me. It's been a long night. I'm in no mood to sleep though, rest being the last thing on my mind. Instead I assume a more stealth mode, if you will. I remain silent, listening for any clues to reveal my location. Names, voices, addresses, even just background noises could all help me out. We went outside for a little bit, judging from the cold damp air. I hear the sound of their shoes walking on the sidewalk. If I strained my ears enough, I could hear the faintest sounds of our water fountains still running. They're still leaving my place.

The next new sound is of a car door opening. Oh dear. I squirmed, hoping to get away from these creeps. My efforts proved unsuccessful as I recognized that we were approaching the vehicle. A trunk popped open. Remembering how these things happen in the movies, I braced myself for the impact of being roughly thrown into the trunk and shut in. Squeezing my eyes shut, I was shunned even further into darkness. The impact I anticipated never came though. Instead I was gently lifted and placed inside. Wow. These guys really know how to kidnap me like gentlemen. Refusing to give in, I screamed and squirmed, making an ill fated attempt to slither out of this prison. Instead just as I was quickly making my way out like a caterpillar, something slammed into my skull. The trunk door lifting back up after such an accident, a vaguely familiar yet strongly distorted voice apologized. I could feel those hands roll me back in as consciousness fades.

When I had awoken, I found myself in a new and unfamiliar environment. The first thing I notice is that I'm sitting in some sort of chair, my legs dangling in the air. My wrists strapped to it via belts. I pull and wriggle myself around, failing to escape captivity. Looking up, I'm greeted by a bunch of weirdo men in red robes. They are all standing in a circle, which I find kinda creepy. I don't think I was kidnapped by your typical pedophile. Pedo or cult, whoever my captor is, I'm honestly scared and not too happy about my predicament.

"I see you have awoken" one guy, who I assume is the leader of some sort, stepped forward. I react with harsh negativity.

"No sh*t sherlock!" I hissed, resuming to struggle against these bindings. "Ugh, let me go! I'm gonna sue you big time!" I threatened. Some of the guys in the background cringed at my words. Gets em every time.

"That will not be necessary" creepy leader guy responded with utter calmness. The nerve of this guy just makes me sick right now.

"What is it that you have seen?" he proceeded to ask, the other guys chanting the word 'speak'.

"Oh um, nothing. Literally. Nothing. For the last hour or so I was stuffed inside a burlap bag. Now let me go!" I demanded

"Not until you have answered our questio-"

"LET ME GO!" I interrupted, not in the mood whatsoever to cooperate. "You just kidnapped me from my own home! No one treats me like that! Do you even know who I am!?"

"Your name is Pacifica Northwest. 13 years old and the Great-Great Granddaughter of the Town Founder: Nathaniel Northwest. You are also reffered to as the most popular, rich and talented individual in this town" he answered, never missing a beat

"That's right! And if your smart you will release me right now before I make all of your lives miserable!" I spat out the threat, glaring at this guy. The background dudes cringed slightly, proving that my signature icy stare hasn't completely lost it's touch. This guy though only grit his teeth in slight frustration.

"Tell us what you have seen while out at the Golf Course earlier this evening" he asked once again. Hmm? What does he know?

"Oh, the usual. Windmills, golf clubs, balls, a wannabe mini golfer, all that junk. Can I go now?" I relayed the relatively _normal _bits of my evening.

"Pacifica. Speak honestly. What happened while you were out golfing?" he pressed on. The other guys chanted the word 'speak' once again. This is getting old

"Look, if you guys are trying to peer pressure me into telling you this stuff, heres the memo: I pressure other people; not the other way around" I deadpanned

"Speak!" they chanted once more. That's getting annoying.

"Ok, ok, fine! If you wanna judge me about the weirdo stuff that happened while hiding underground, BE MY GUEST" I finally cracked, snarking off with a cold hiss. "These Freaky Little Ball People, I call them the FLBP for short, kidnapped me mid-soda break and almost decapitated me with the windmill. I barely escaped with my life" I reported.

"I see" leader dude said, opening up a nearby chest while I kept on ranting.

"I swear, once this is all over, I'm going to sue that golf course. Then you guys will be next" I ranted, still irritated at what has happened.

"Oh, you won't need to sue anyone, Pacifica" he said gravely, pulling out some sort of weird gun.

A gun.

"Wha-!? Please! Don't shoot me! Don't you dare!" I panicked, begging quite pathetically for my life. Eyes wide, my heart was pounding with this percieved danger. I pulled at the belts once more, failing as my bare feet kicked and flailed in an ill fated attempt at escape. "Please! Don't kill me! I-I'll pay you like, a million dollars! Just don't shoot! Please!" I begged, tears pouring down. The man pointed the gun at me, pulling the trigger. Screaming at the top of my lungs, the gun shot out a bright light out at me. All I could see was nothing but white light


End file.
